"Do what you love," they preach

From ivory towers and stages,

“And you'll never work a day in your life.”

Sweet lies wrapped in motivational pages.

What they don't tell you:

Love becomes currency,

Pure joy transforms to metrics,

Creativity bows to algorithms.

Your brushstrokes now bend

To Instagram's golden ratio,

Your music warps to fit

The viral thirty seconds.

Your words reshape themselves 

Around SEO.

Each compromise a small death,

Each trend a chain around your neck.

The art that once flowed like spring water

Now drips thick as custard,

Tainted by market demands.

You stand at the crossroads:

Path one: Keep dancing for coins,

Let your soul rust in golden chains.

Path two: Reclaim your art,

Feast on integrity, starve with dignity.

But principles don't pay rent,

Honor won't stock the fridge.

The market doesn't care for your truth,

Only what sells, what trends, what yields.

So here you are,

Another creator turned merchant,

Watching your passion rot

On the altar of commerce.

Choose wisely, artist—

Your dreams have teeth,

And they bite both ways.